


minute respite

by malevon



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Worms, Consensual blindfolding, M/M, Pre-161, Short n sweet, post-160, vague descriptions of overstimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26034853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevon/pseuds/malevon
Summary: martin does what he can to help. it’s enough, as always.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	minute respite

**Author's Note:**

> from a discord server I’m in, where I was prompted with “power fatigue” and “blindfolded” for jon, for the bad things happen bingo!

By all accounts, Jon should be fine—better than fine, really. The Eye is satiated, flourishing, thriving under the new world order, and, all things considered, Jon hasn’t felt this  _ physically _ good in a long, long time.

And  _ yet. _

He is still a human (in name, at least—this vessel still has particular limitations) and he is still a human with specific conditions. The amount of knowledge pouring into his brain is so  _ loud  _ and all sounds like static in his mind. He can’t seem to grasp onto one thing, ever. It all just comes and comes and comes unbidden, and he has no control over it, no way to shut the door back now that the ocean has flooded through, no way to grab one molecule of water out of the deluge. 

So when he feels hands brush on his shoulders through the blanket cocoon he’s resided in for the past (time is meaningless now) (while?) (day?) (few hours?) (fourteen point two kilometers away there is a hole in the ground and a woman is consigned to digging and digging and making it deeper until her hands wear away into nothing) (twenty-three point four kilometers away there is a man covered in worms, worms worms  **worms** —) (less than one kilometer away there is a man constantly threatened by the Lonely, and it has such a  _ strong  _ grip on him already—)

“Jon?”

That.

He can hold onto that.

Jon peeks his head out from the blanket cocoon he’s been residing in. 

Looking at Martin is easier, the easiest, he thinks, because Martin is familiar and does not add to the static. The static makes him irritable, though, and sensitive to… well, everything, so of course, logically, he has been pushing Martin away. For both their sakes.

“I had an idea,” he says, softly, and Jon appreciates that more than anything. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Jon nods, shifting and sitting up so that Martin doesn’t have to hunch over to see him. He only sees Martin for a couple more seconds before gently, gently, a piece of fabric is tied over his eyes, knotted under his messy bun. He feels Martin’s hands smooth his hair down around it, his thumbs circling on the soft spot right behind his ears, and there’s a soft pressure on his forehead.

“I thought. I thought it would help you, even if it’s just so you can leave the room.”

Jon can’t answer. The static is still too loud for him to speak over the roar, but… Martin’s right. It is very decidedly quieter. There’s only darkness, but it is not the Dark. It is his own pocket of darkness, granted to him in an act of love, and he will live here.

He nods, and he can feel Martin  _ physically  _ brighten when he offers him the smallest ghost of a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hopefully I’ll find motivation to finish my longer angstier jm piece oop


End file.
